


Out of Time

by distantstarlight



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Angels, Crossover, Fluff and Crack, Johnlock - Freeform, Let's Write Sherlock, M/M, Magic, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-18
Updated: 2014-08-18
Packaged: 2018-02-13 18:38:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2160918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/distantstarlight/pseuds/distantstarlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock receive a very unexpected visitor who has an odd request and even odder information.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Request

**Author's Note:**

> Whereupon I take massive liberties with several realities and unrealities because I wanted this story to happen.

There was a man in a rumpled trench coat sitting on their sofa. He looked worn out and unshaven. Sherlock and John stood in front of the fireplace more than a little impressed at how sneaky the man was because three seconds ago there hadn’t been anyone else in their flat, “Doctor Watson, I need you and your husband’s help.”

“My husband? I’m sorry, I think you have the wrong people. I mean, yes I’m Doctor Watson but he isn’t my husband. How did you get in here?” Doctor John Watson was a man of medium height with sandy blond hair and pleasant blue eyes. The rumpled man on the sofa covered his face with his hands, “Can we help you?”

“You are the only two who can help. I’ve come at the wrong time. I apologize. It would have been easier earlier but…” the man cut himself off and stood. John and Sherlock suddenly felt the urge to look up as if the man were taller than he appeared. His tired eyes looked searchingly at both of them, “They need you. Your sons need you. You and you husband must help them.”

“Okay, one – Sherlock isn’t my husband, two – I don’t have any children! I think someone has given you some misinformation.” John was trying to be polite but Sherlock just strode right up to the stranger and looked him over.

“Will you help?” asked the strange man imploringly.

“John, get your coat. We have to help your children. Apparently this person can bring us to the correct location expeditiously, isn’t that so…. _Castiel_.” Sherlock sounded smug but the rumpled man just smiled with relief. “John. Coat. Gun too. Chop chop.”

“Stop talking to me like I’m your pet!” John still got his gun from upstairs and put on his coat. “Who is this anyway, do you know this man?”

Sherlock shook his head but looked impressed, “John this isn’t a man. This is an angel, a warrior of god. Castiel.”

“ _An angel_?! I just…and I magically have kids somewhere…no. I think I might have noticed if I had children.” John wasn’t exactly arguing because they did take a lot of unusual cases but he was still not going to admit to something he was certain could not be so.

“You have two sons, Sam and Dean. It’s complicated. You know about divergent realities? No? Sherlock will explain later. Suffice to say that in one reality you used to be married to a woman named Mary Morstan. She had two children with you before she was killed. These children grew up without you and are now in mortal danger. You are the only two who can help them! John please, they’re your sons, all you have left of Mary.”

“She’s dead.”

“Yes Doctor Watson.”

“I have two boys.”

“Yes Doctor Watson.”

“Two grownup boys?”

“Yes Doctor Watson.”

“And Sherlock and I are married.”

“Yes Doctor Watson.”

“That’s all so wrong. We’re _not_ married. Sherlock would never marry _me_! I’m just his flatmate, I don’t have kids. I don’t know a Mary Morstan and you have the wrong John Watson.”

Sherlock stood tall, “Don’t assume things John. I would consider it a great honor to be able to convince you to be my husband! You are my best friend and not _just_ my flatmate. Why is _this_ the point that troubles you and not the fact that you have an immortal angel right in front of you?”

“How do you know he’s an angel? Do you have some sort of secret angel detector or something?” John was being caustic but Sherlock was silent. The tall man looked away and now John grew concerned, “Sherlock? What aren’t you telling me this time?”

Sherlock fidgeted on one spot and would not look at his best friend but the rumpled man…angel…stood up and put his hand on John’s shoulder. Suddenly John could feel oceans of compassion, a distant kind of love, and somehow John knew this person could be trusted, “He’s on the side of the angels.” said Castiel softly.

“I’m not one of them.” said Sherlock almost hastily, “John, you know how I’ve always studied, how I’ve always sought to learn more. This is a family tradition, our heritage, if you will.”

“What _heritage_ , what are you talking about Sherlock? Will someone please just speak plainly to me?” John was sounding confused and when John became confused he got upset, “Sherlock! I’m giving you one minute to explain.”

“ _Men of Letters_ John, that’s what the society is called. We watch, observe, journal our findings but we do not interfere! It’s about the supernatural.” Sherlock was looking imploringly at his best friend as if willing John to understand and believe. “I haven’t been allowed to tell you of them; it’s not permitted outside of family. I’ve been helped by angels before.”

“The fall.” said John weakly and Sherlock nodded. John turned accusing eyes on Castiel who held his hands up defensively, “You stopped Sherlock from dying after he jumped?”

“Oh no, that was Tariel. No one sees Tariel really but…” Castiel looked at John and he seemed to exude urgency, “Doctor Watson….John, please. Come with me. You must help. You and Sherlock must get married and you have to come help us. Time is not a generous commodity.”

“I’m _not_ marrying Sherlock!” said John but Sherlock had already taken John’s left hand in his and folded his other hand over the top, “Sherlock? What are you doing?”

“John Hamish Watson, I promise to honor and keep you with all the love I can manage for the entirety of my days, until not even death can part us because I’m very stubborn. Your turn.”

“Sherlock Holmes if this is how we’re getting married I swear that I will never forget this until the day I die and if we make it into heaven together you can bet your ghostly boots that you are going to spend eternity making it up to me! I watch your back, I fix you when you’re hurt, and I stand by you always. Isn’t that enough?” John was very irritated now.

“Unusual vows but acceptable therefore I bind your souls together in HIS name, may the blessings of heaven shine down on this union. I hereby consecrate your vows with the sacred seals.” A gold ring appeared on John’s finger and it matched the one now gleaming on Sherlock’s hand.

“Did we just get married? This can’t be legal!” John yanked his hand out of Sherlock’s who let it go because he was calling Mycroft.

“Mycroft, John and I were just married by an angel. See to the paperwork will you. Yes it’s one of those things. We’ll be away for a while, you understand. Tell Mummy, she’ll absolutely love John.” Sherlock listened for a moment, “Very well brother.”

John was standing there, his mouth hanging open as he gaped back and forth between Castiel and Sherlock. “What the hell just happened?”

Castiel stepped forward and took John’s newly ringed finger in his, “You have just been married to your soul-mate by a sentinel of heaven. Congratulations Mr. Holmes.”

“John will keep his name, this isn’t the stone ages.” snapped Sherlock who took John’s hand out of Castiel’s, “Let’s go. You said we had no time.”

“We don’t.” Castiel put his hand on their shoulders and with a soft smile he made all three of them vanish without a trace.

 

 


	2. The Meeting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John has gotten several shocks one after the other and now it's time to meet the Winchesters.

 “Don’t touch it.”

“Stop telling me what to do!”

“You’re doing it wrong.”

“How do you know?”

“I know alright! Look, just give…it….give it here!” Two heavily muscled and savage looking men started tumbling around the carpet of a shoddy hotel room, both men trying to wrest a remote control out of each other’s hand, “I want to watch my show!”

“You mean porn Dean! I’m trying to work and I can TOTALLY live without hearing you do… _that_!”

“I don’t do anything and besides, I always wait till I’m in the shower.”

“That’s why I always shower before you do.” By dint of an elbow to the stomach the taller of the two stood up and shook back his straight sandy-brown hair. “We’re watching Doctor Who, that’s all there is to it.”

“I hate those foreign shows, you can’t even understand half of what they’re saying!” complained Dean who threw himself down on one of the available double beds to sulk.

“There are no such things as Timelords.” said Castiel solemnly.

“Fucking hell Cas!” shouted Dean who popped right back off the bed to stand beside Sam. Suddenly both men stopped moving, freezing in one spot as they stared at the pair beside their friend.

“No. It can’t be. _How_? This…Cas….what is this. That’s not him, it can’t be him!” Sam was rocked back on his heels and Dean was entirely speechless.

“It’s true. It’s him.” said Cas, a thread of worry in his voice.

“Dad?” said Dean weakly staring hard at John.

“Wait, what? No. Them? Those two? Yes maybe a bit around the eyes with the smaller one but no way on earth is that _giant_ my son! Sherlock! This has got to be some kind of trick!”

“What my husband means to say is that he is very pleased to meet his progeny. It’s most unexpected, forgive his social ineptitude, he only learned about you about fifteen minutes ago.”

“Oh my god dad! You have a _British_ accent!” Sam and Dean clearly recognized John and were staring at him with a terrible mixture of love and disbelief. Sam looked dismayed suddenly and looked at John, “Dad…you…you don’t remember us? Wait, you’re married? To him?”

Castiel looked very pleased, “Sam, meet someone from the founding family of the Men of Letters, Sherlock Holmes. Yes. They are married. I made sure of it.”

“My dad married a man and they’re British.” said Dean weakly and sat down, “Not that there’s anything wrong with that. It’s fine. It’s all fine. God save the Queen and whatever.”

John just stared at him. Castiel smiled over at the stunned brothers, “We can order pizza.” he said with excitement.

“Oh god yes.” said Sam who sat beside his brother, both of whom could not stop staring right at John. Sherlock watched Castiel pick up a mobile which he kept calling a cell phone and try to operate it. Sherlock snatched it away and quickly typed in a complicated order and then made Sam pay for it with a credit card under the name Hamish Williamson.  Sherlock raised his eyebrows and showed the name to John before Sam reached over and plucked the card out of the detective’s hand, “I’m sorry, um. We’re being rude. I’m Sam Winchester, this is my brother Dean. Um…so you’re…married…to our dad.”

“For nearly half an hour now and I have to say this marriage is already much better than I expected it to be. I can’t even imagine how John is going to top today on our first anniversary.” Sherlock still looked very pleased with himself.

“We’re not really married.” said John who was apparently still trying to come to grips with all the bits of himself he could see in the two men in front of him. Yes one was massive but his hands, those were John’s hands. Sam’s eyes were John’s eyes and his hair. That was Watson hair right down to the root! Dean could be John’s brother. John realized both men would tower over him and suddenly felt very small. Even Dean had to be almost ten centimeters taller than him! John’s brain could not focus and he babbled, “I had a date with Lorelei tonight. I’ll have to cancel.”

“They’re really married. I did it the old fashion way, with soul-binding. Sherlock didn’t want to part with John after they died so I made them one.” Castiel looked as pleased with himself as Sherlock did. “Who is Lorelei?”

“John’s ex-girlfriend or she will be once she reads the text I just sent her.” Sam snatched his phone away from Sherlock and glared at the tall man who simply went to stand beside John, casually draping his arm over the soldier’s shoulder. He got an elbow in the ribs for his effort.

“You did not just make me break-up with Lorelei by text!” John hissed and Sherlock rolled his eyes.

“Of course not John, you aren’t crass. _Technically_ it was Sam who just sent her a message telling her you were off the market because you and I have run off and gotten married to one another. She can’t possibly be angry about _that_. Everyone loves a wedding.” Sherlock smiled down at his less-than-pleased spouse.

“Sherlock Holmes. You are one inch from death. After I kill _you_ I’m killing the _angel_.” John was almost shouting at Sherlock and nothing happened until he said he was going to kill Castiel. Suddenly there was a very angry human wall made of two very dangerous looking men standing in front of a rather touched looking celestial being. John narrowed his eyes at his children, their combined mulish expressions screaming ‘ _family_ ’ louder than anything else.

“Tish tosh John, don’t be surly. There are children present. Boys, don’t make your father hurt you. He’s rather good at breaking people.” Sherlock seemed to be enjoying everything immensely, “So. What is it that we’re saving you from? Castiel was very determined that we come.”

“I need a drink.” said John weakly and sat at the small table near the kitchenette. Dean visibly brightened and went to a bar fridge to toss John a beer, taking one for himself. He gave Castiel a can of coke.

“Oh, this makes my heart race. Thank you Dean.” Castiel was like a small child and slurped his fizzy drink quickly. Neither Sherlock nor John missed the quick fond smile Dean shot toward the angel the second he was distracted. By the time Dean made it back to his brother the smile was gone, like it had never happened.

John had a long pull off the can and then sat back. Sherlock took a chair next to John and held his free hand. John tried to pull it away but Sherlock had a death-grip on John’s digits, “It’s our wedding day John. Don’t be parsimonious with your affections. This is probably as good as it’s going to get.”

John sputtered out attempts at denials but Sam and Dean didn’t miss how their father’s fingers twined easily with the taller man and how naturally they both reacted to one another. Sam cleared his throat, “You two dated a long time?”

“Never.” said John.

“Nearly five years.” said Sherlock at the same time.

Sam and Dean exchanged grins and Dean asked, “Which one is it. You dated or you didn’t?”

“John and I have been in a rather complicated relationship since the day we met. It’s been unconventional since the very first minute. He’s dated a lot of women but mostly for sex, something of which I have not yet had an interest. He’s my best friend and my staunchest supporter, I cannot do without him, between killing people for one another, rescuing one another from a variety of situations, and dying for him one time it has been a very energetic and difficult to define courtship.” Sherlock put his arm back around John’s shoulder and this time the doctor didn’t shrug it off. Sherlock smiled down at John one more time before becoming very serious, “It’s all completely irrelevant at this juncture and I’ve answered only in order to forestall further intrusions on our private life. Why are we here?”

The grins fell away from both brothers and Castiel’s face became serious as well. Sam cleared his throat, “We need access to a vault of information but the combination is a bit complicated.” He swallowed hard and darted a look at Dean who looked furiously unhappy about the information they were sharing. “It involves blood sacrifice, two generations, two specific generations from a very specific family.”

“Mine.” said John flatly and Sam nodded. “Why are you Winchesters and not Watsons?” he demanded suddenly.

“Um. You named us. Winchester was your Hunter’s name, it’s what everyone knows us by. I’ve never seen our original birth certificates but we’ve got about a million fake ones if you want. Anyway back to bleeding, we need your blood dad and that of your…husband.”

“Why Sherlock?” now John was the one who looked dangerous and the Winchesters seemed impressed at how protective John now seemed of the person he had so unexpectedly espoused.

“It’s complicated Dad, we need you with us and we needed someone connected to the Society who wasn’t blood but was tied to us in some unbreakable way, and we didn’t know how we were going to do that because, well, mom was a woman right so we assumed you’d marry a woman, but women can’t be Men of Letters. Yes, we’ve already had the equal rights argument but unless one of the eligible families has a daughter you can marry in the next few minutes it’s not really going to be an issue in the next eight hours. You married a man and he’s a Man of Letters. It’s actually kind of perfect.”

“See John, I’m perfect. Even Sam thinks so and we’ve only just met. You’ve landed a catch, congratulations.” Sherlock squeezed John happily while the doctor rolled his eyes and looked hard done by. “What kind of vault? We’re not safe-crackers you know, though I’m sure I could give it a good go.”

“Sam’s already got it figured out; we just have to do the thing. He’s got everything choreographed; he’s really anal that way. I mean he practically drew dance steps on paper and glued it to the floor…” Dean looked at his brother who was glaring balefully at him and wrapped it up, “He’s thorough.”

“So we’re here to dance under the moonlight naked? What is this super-secret vault that requires a blood sacrifice and marriage to Sherlock Holmes?” John turned to Sherlock, “Wait! You said until not even death can part us!”

“Very observant John, you forgot the part where I said I was very stubborn. You know it’s true. There’s no divorce available for the foreseeable future of your soul, or rather, _our_ soul.” Sherlock was inordinately pleased with everything, “Back to the vault ritual. I assume all the logistics have been seen to?”

Sam looked a tiny bit taken aback but nodded carefully, “Yeah, everything’s ready to go. We need to wait till sunset to begin. We’ll have time to eat before then. This is going to take a lot out of us.”

John looked around, “Why do we need to get into this vault so desperately? What’s going on?” Sam looked at his feet like a small boy and Dean was suddenly preoccupied with the ceiling. “Tell me this instant.” snapped John in full Captain mode.

Both men were now falling over themselves to explain but Sam took over by wrapping his hand over Dean’s mouth to shut him up, “The King of Hell is coming. We won’t survive this round unless we have a very particular weapon that’s stored inside the vault. The number of people able to access this vault is now three, me, Dean, and dad.”

“The King of hell.” said John with disbelief.

“Yes dad.” they chorused.

“Is coming here.”

“Yes dad.”

“Why?”

Now both men made a series of comments referring to incidents where it seemed that one or both of them had interfered in one way or another with the King of Hell’s many nefarious plans, thereby garnering his very unhappy attentions. It all seemed to involve the deaths of what seemed like every single person that had ever been important to the two brothers and by the time they finished their pizza had arrived. Castiel was in heaven and began eating immediately while Sherlock and John sat beside one another in stunned silence. Sherlock looked at them, “You’re alone.”

“Alone protects us.” snapped Dean. “Look, we’ve paid the price a lot of times already and we’re going to keep paying, ain’t nothing new there. This time though, this time dad has to pay with us, and I guess you Curly.”

“My name is Sherlock.” said the detective coldly. “What is my role in this besides giving you bodily fluids?”

Sam looked at them, “Eat first. Serious. Everyone, just eat as much as you can. We’re going to need all the energy we can get.”

Sherlock looked at the selections and grudgingly took a single slice which he only nibbled the points off of before stopping, “ _Eat_.” said Sam and Sherlock glared at him, “Listen dude, you’re not being very smart. This is a battle and you need to keep your body fueled. If it helps think of it like transport, you need gas in the tank to make it to the end of the road and this road doesn’t have pit-stops, you understand? Eat as much as you’re physically capable of holding. I don’t care if you’re hungry or not. Fit food in there. Now.”

John hid a smile as Sherlock finished his slice in three bites, went back to fetch two more slices and ate them with mechanical precision. All of them ate quietly except for Castiel who was stretching the cheese out as far as he could before eating his way back to his pizza. Dean was watching him out of the corner of his eye, a small smile hidden as he shoveled pizza in only slightly faster than Sam. John ate quickly and efficiently. As a soldier he’d learned how to do exactly this, fuel his body for the fight to come and everything in him said that the fight of his life was coming soon.


	3. The Task

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They know why they're there. Now it's time to do what they came to do.

Castiel brought them all to a prepared site. “Where are we?” asked John as he looked around. They were standing in the middle of a forest. The trees were twisted and tangled together, moss lay thick on the ground and the entire place was eerily silent.

“This is an abandoned crossroads. There used to be a town not far from here, it’s gone now. The forest grew back and everyone forgot this was even here but the magic never fades.” Sam looked serious. “Okay, listen closely. I’m going to position each of us, _don’t move_! After that I’m going to start reciting a spell, _don’t talk_! When I finish the spell each of us is going to take a _single step_ to the left together! We’ll practice a couple of times so we all move together. Sam made them stand relative to one another and made them all practice stepping in tandem and extending their right arms all at the same moment. In each hand Sam placed a curved instrument made of what appeared to be antler or some other kind of horn, “Okay, good enough, try to stay together. Right. I’m going to give all of you some instructions, for fuck’s sake don’t take liberties or decide you should do it differently or not at all! Do exactly what I ask you to do right when you’re supposed to or we will all die. I’m not exaggerating. We’ll be dead and we’ll stay that way.”

John looked at his sons and his husband, of everyone here he was the one who was least able to deal with the shock of information easily, “How long will this take?”

“It won’t seem long once we start but we won’t exactly be in the world. We’ll be in a separate reality temporally; time will flow differently for us. When we finish the spell it will be exactly midnight.” Sam looked anxious and worried but Dean just stood there looking bored.

While his brother went over all the lines of salt and other things he’d drawn on the ground Dean wandered over to his father, “Dad?”

John blinked but turned his face toward his son, “Dean.” John clearly didn’t know what to say but Dean apparently did.

“I just wanted to tell you how hard we’ve worked to make you proud. I know you couldn’t be there for us the way you wanted but it’s all okay, we had good people to look out for us and we understood. It fucking sucks that you can’t remember us at all but I understand why. I’m just…well…after we survive this; I’d like to hang around with you for a bit, you know, get to know one another.” Dean looked incredibly uncomfortable making this request.

“That is a very emotional appeal and I’m positive my husband would enjoy that.” said Sherlock who seemed to be enjoying saying the word ‘husband’ as much as possible, “John is a very feeling person, he would not have walked away from his children lightly.”

“Yeah we know he wouldn’t. That’s why it was such a shock to see him again, especially looking so young.” said Dean who was looking at Sherlock like he was a man who’d successfully donated away his brain, “Our dad always put family first, way before himself. We knew why he was gone, we just missed him. He was our dad.”

“Guys, it’s time. Cas? Get into position.” Castiel nodded and made to stand in the center of a large circle Sam had dug into the earth but before his foot crossed the line he stepped back, turned, and embraced Dean. Without another word the angel let the surprised man go. Once inside Castiel lay on the ground and stared at the sky, completely expressionless. Sam went from person to person and whispered in their ear for a moment. When he was done he looked them in the eye and asked seriously, “Okay?” everyone nodded but Sherlock looked grim afterward.

The sun set just as everyone took their appointed positions. Sam began to chant in a deep steady voice and for a minute John almost thought Sherlock was the one chanting. Sam’s voice became deep and growling, it felt like he was speaking in a barely subdued roar as the strange syllables filled the air around them with menace. John wanted desperately to move closer to Sherlock and Sherlock was clearly struggling to remain where he was as well. Castiel lay calmly in the center of the circle, Dean gazing anxiously down on the angel. There was a brief hush and suddenly everyone could see Castiel’s wings. They were translucent, like they weren’t really in the same reality as them. One wing passed through Dean and the other passed through Sherlock. John stood near Castiel’s feet and Sam stood near the angel’s head.

When Sam stopped speaking it was almost a shock. As one all four men stepped to the left and all of them heard a click deep inside their minds. All four men stabbed their right palms with the horned tools in their left hands, all of them drawing blood. As one all of them pushed the implements in their hands in different directions and a multitude of clicks could be heard. The air seemed to swirl around them without moving anything at all and suddenly Castiel gasped and arched backward. He was shining brighter and brighter and suddenly everyone was standing inside a library that was being illuminated by Castiel’s grace.

Sam was shouting at Dean who darted up a short ladder to grasp at something on top of a bookshelf, John looked at the implements in his hand and with consternation on his face he turned toward Sherlock. Sherlock’s eyes locked onto John’s for only a moment because the second Dean’s feet were back on the floor the library seemed to blow to pieces. All of them were thrown away from one another as the silent explosion propelled them back to their own reality.

“I think I broke my bum.” groaned Castiel who had landed on a small rock protruding from the forest floor.

“Sherlock? Oh my god Sherlock!” John’s voice was filled with panic. The explosion had caused Sherlock to crack right into a nearby tree; his shoulder was punctured, stabbed clear through by a broken branch. He was bleeding heavily.

“John.” Sherlock’s voice was already weak, he was bleeding out right in front of his new husband, “I’m sorry John.”

“No Sherlock, this can’t happen. No. No! We only just… _Sherlock_!” John’s voice was full of grief and despair.

“Allow me Doctor Watson.” Castiel was there. He drew Sherlock off the branch, blood cascading down the detective’s chest. Castiel sang softly and placed his palm over the wound. Sherlock’s whole body convulsed one time. When Castiel took his hand away the wound was gone but an irregular circular scar was left in its place. Sherlock didn’t move. He lay on the moss still covered in blood and he wasn’t breathing. “Only one thing can save him, true love’s first kiss.” said Castiel gently. He placed his bloodied palm on John’s shoulder, “I can’t save him alone.”

“Sherlock, please, you can’t die. I won’t let you. You did this to me once already and you promised you wouldn’t die on me again. Sherlock! I…I can’t….lose you. I love you.” John’s eyes were streaming tears as he knelt beside Sherlock’s still body. Still crying John leaned over and pressed his mouth to the other man’s.

A different kind of magic filled the air. This one was filled with warmth and comfort; it reminded everyone of warm fires on cold nights, hot tea, and home. The forest was dark but the blackness was no longer threatening or depressing. It was simply night and Sherlock’s arm came up to wind around John’s neck as he returned the kiss that saved his life, “I love you John. I always have.”

Castiel was smiling softly as he watched, “One true pairings are rare. In all my long years I’ve only witnessed it a handful of times. For these two reality has bent and shifted to make it so these two could be together. The laws of man altered to accommodate them, because of them hundreds of thousands of people they will never know will live understanding what love is because theirs shines so brightly.”

Dean was watching his father kiss his husband, his expression more than a little uncomfortable, “They’ve never kissed before this and they’re married?”

Sam punched his brother in the shoulder, “Not all love is because of physical affection. Um, dad? You can stop now. He’s alive.”

“Fuck off.” mumbled John who kept kissing Sherlock who was becoming more enthusiastic about the whole thing. They kissed for a long minute more before John helped Sherlock get to his feet. Sherlock looked weak but very happy once more, “We’re scarred in the same shoulder now.”

“I know, it’s very romantic.” Sherlock took John’s hand in his and John made no protest. He was looking at Sherlock as if seeing him for the first time, “It’s alright John, there’s no rush. We’ll be married forever, we’ll take our time.”

Castiel returned them to the dingy hotel room where cold pizza boxes and stale beer waited for them. Sherlock showered and had to wear a spare shirt Dean gave him, his dress shirt was ruined beyond repair as well as being stiff with blood now. John checked him over before returning to the conversation that had sprung up between himself and the boys. “So you’re a doctor, you were a soldier, now you’re a detective and a new dad to two bouncy baby boys. Wow, I’d never have guessed.” joked Dean. He looked happy to be visiting with John and kept making his father say American catch phrases just to hear them in a British accent. “That’s never going to stop being funny.”

“So what happens now?” asked John. He was looking at his sons and it was clear he was feeling more and more attached to them every moment.

“Cas takes you back home and we all move on with the next part of our lives. Sam and I still have to fight the King of Hell but we’ve got our weapon now, he won’t know what’s happening.” Dean tried to sound lighthearted about it.

“Will I get to see you again?” now John sounded upset.

“I don’t think so dad. Once Cas returns you, you’ll go back to not remembering that you were born a decade earlier than it says on your birth certificate, you’ll forget you were married to mom, you’ll forget all about us. Dad, it’s okay. You have to do this. It’s the only way. We…we can’t be together as a family. Reality won’t let us. Timelines won’t let us. You have to live your life however it plays out without us, and we’ll have to do the same thing without you.” Sam was trying to hide his upset but John could see it.

“Will you remember me?” John asked his voice rough and heavy. The doctor’s eyes welled up when both men nodded slowly, “Come here.” John hugged each son hard and kissed them both on the forehead, “I couldn’t be prouder to have sons like you. You’re both so perfect. If I could I’d bring you everywhere and show everyone what amazing boys I have. I wish there was something I could give you to keep.”

Sherlock stepped forward, “My brother’s name is Mycroft Holmes. You can find him in London. Should you ever need assistance on an international level call him. Use the code-word “ _Redbeard_ ” directly to him and he will help.”

“Won’t he tell you if he hears from his nephew-in-laws?” Sam was trying to be brave but clearly he didn’t want his father to leave this way either.

“No. Mycroft is naturally secretive. He will understand and he will not reveal to John or myself anything that would make us suspect your existence. He can help you with false identities and hit him up for large sums of money as often as you want. He really won’t mind.”

John was hugged front and back by his sons, his much shorter self almost completely hidden between their much larger bodies, “Say cheese.” said Cas who used Sam’s cell phone to snap a picture. “You have until dawn before I must return John and Sherlock to their home.”

Everyone was very tired but John sat on the tattered sofa with Sherlock beside him, the boys sitting cross-legged on the floor to listen to their father’s answer to their questions. John told them about going to medical school and earning his way up the ladder in the army, both of them gave him a salute which John corrected until they were doing it the way they did in the British military. Sam told his father about how he’d almost been married, and Dean confessed that he’d fallen in love once but life didn’t really work out that way for them. They were at peace with their violent lifestyle. Sherlock amused everyone when he described Scotland Yard collectively as “Idiots.” which launched a story about a dearly departed friend named Bobby, whom Sam and Dean were clearly still fond of.

When the sun lightened the sky but hadn’t quite made it over the horizon Castiel stood, “It’s time.”

John hugged and kissed his sons one more time and even Sherlock gave them stiff armed embraces, “It was good meeting you. John would have been an excellent father to you if he could have stayed. He’s very good at raising me and so far no one has been able to do that.”

“I think I would have liked you.” said Sam, clapping Sherlock’s bony shoulder with a large hand, “Take care of our dad.”

“I shall.” promised Sherlock. John looked at his sons one last time and then they were gone.

John and Sherlock were standing in the middle of 221 B wearing touristy clothes, “I can’t believe we went to Vegas and got married at one of those novelty places!”

“I can’t believe Mycroft paid to send us!” both men were looking at a framed photo of the pair of them dressed as the fifth Doctor and the Tenth. “Thanks for marrying me inside the Tardis, you really are amazing Sherlock.” The picture was nice, featuring John, Sherlock, the rumpled minister who had performed the service and the brothers that ran the business and served as witnesses. Both of them were large and more dangerous looking than wedding planners normally appeared but John was very pleased with the picture.

“How could I resist taking you to a place named _Winchester’s Shotgun Weddings_? I can’t believe you said yes.” Sherlock was gazing tenderly at his husband, “It feels like it just happened and we’ve been married for a whole day now.

“If I weren’t so jetlagged I’d be getting started on the honeymoon. Come on husband, let’s get some shuteye.” John and Sherlock linked hands, and with jaw cracking yawns made their way to the washroom to brush their teeth and get ready for bed, “You’d think this was the first time we’d done this.” commented John as they moved awkwardly around one another.

“We’ll we’re newlyweds, it will take a bit of time to wear into a new routine. Come along John, I feel very tired tonight. There’s no rush. We have all the time in the world it seems.” John and Sherlock held hands again and went to bed, snugged up tight to one another in what used to be Sherlock’s room. They were both very happy with the state of things and looked forward to a life that finally, finally seemed to be working in their favor.

Half-way around the world three people were fighting back to back against hell-hounds and demons. Things were going badly for the tiny group and a large demon swept in to finish them. A hellish scream split the air as the huge demon seem to shudder before fracturing into dozens of still moving pieces, each one crumbling to dust. When it had settled only the three men remained, “Thanks dad, it worked perfect.” Dean tucked away a small box that barely fit inside his pocket. No one asked to see it. Smiling at one another and very weary, Sam, Dean, and Castiel vanished from the clearing, the world safe once more.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this. Feel free to comment extensively. This is my latest submission to Let's Write Sherlock Challenge 15. Subscribe to my feed to follow along.


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